


Streaks of Purple

by emmablowguns



Category: Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Genre: College, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, No Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:52:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmablowguns/pseuds/emmablowguns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fic in which Sloane dyes her hair purple and Ferris has to find out how she did it at all costs. Or, Cameron realizes he's dating two very stubborn people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Streaks of Purple

**Author's Note:**

> ive been in a writing slump lately so i churned this out to distract myself...

Sloane had started it.

Monday night when she _flounced_ out of the bathroom and down the hallway with streaks of purple lighting up her dark brown hair. She had intrigued and delighted Cameron and Ferris (respectively) as they prodded her for answers on how to achieve such bright colors, but Sloane wouldn't tell, as stubborn as ever, and it agitated Ferris more every day.

By Wednesday the dye had begun to fade, which he only used to try to unravel Sloane's hair mystery further.

"It's fading," Ferris had said in the kitchen, wrapping himself around her and lightly running his hands through her hair. "You'll have to redye it soon, right?"

He tried not to sound too eager, should his plan be revealed, but of course, Sloane's no idiot.

"Maybe." She smiled innocently, playing naive to his games.

"Maybe? What do you mean maybe?"

She shrugged, detached herself from his arms, and strolled back down the hallway without a word.

She was beautiful. It infuriated him to no end.

Meanwhile, Cameron had lost interest in Sloane's dye job after quickly realizing that she wouldn't budge. Unlike Ferris he was never one to pry, he'd hardly said anything on the matter save for complimenting her in his own quiet way, but it seemed to get drowned out under the ruckus that was an angry and determined Ferris.

On Thursday, he had attempted to enlist Cameron's help in getting Sloane to crack. They were all eating dinner in a companionable silence when Ferris brought it up again.

"Cameron, isn't Sloane's hair beautiful this evening?"

Sloane started giggling before he could respond, immediately picking up on the game. Cameron gave him a withering look in response.

"Isn't it, though? For real! I'm just asking!"

"Sure," Cameron said coolly with a half shrug.

Whenever Ferris talked he always had an agenda to push. It didn't matter what Cameron said, he'd just keep steamrolling on until he could get to his point.

"Don't you want to know how she achieved such a..." Ferris paused, searching for the right words. "Chic look?"

“Is there a point to all this?"

"Yes!"

"One aside from finding out how I dyed my hair?" Sloane chimed in with a smile.

"I'm shocked at you two!" Ferris said as he stood, apparently unable to take these accusations sitting down. He began pacing around the table, only pausing to brush his fingers through first Sloane, then Cameron's hair. The sudden attention made him shiver.

Ferris finally returned to his seat and broke the silence.

"Is it a crime to care about your significant others in this house?" He asked dramatically, putting his hands over his heart as if he were delivering a powerful Shakespearean monologue and not being a stubborn idiot.

Cameron smirked, looking from Sloane to Ferris.

"I don't think so, not here."

"Do you want purple hair, Ferris? Is that it?" Sloane asked, absentmindedly pushing around the uneaten food on her plate.

"No way! I just wanna know and you won't tell me, so now I have to find out!"

"Well, good luck with that. I plead the 5th."

With that, Cameron took his plate and headed off to the kitchen to wash it. He could still hear the playful bickering over the sound of clanking dishes and running water.

It wasn't until Friday evening that Cameron would really speak his mind on the issue. They were all snuggling in bed, as per their usual nightly ritual, and he was running his fingers through both of their hair.

"Who cares, Ferris?" He'd asked, looking between the two.

"I do!" Ferris had snapped back petulantly.

"I know that, but why?"

"Because, I wanna know how she did it and she won't tell me." He said, as if it were obvious.

"No, I think it's because you're both stubborn to a fault."

This made Ferris blush and avoid eye contact, which was answer enough.

Sloane however was silent, with a smug grin creeping across her features, indicating her own involvement in this issue as well. Cameron sighed, addressing her at last.

“Come on Sloane, why don't you just tell him how you did it?"

She leaned closer into Cameron's shoulder, hiding her face from Ferris.

"It's more fun to tease him." Sloane chuckled softly, he could feel it on his shoulder.

"Make her stop it!" Ferris whined, leaning closer into Cameron as well.

“Oh my god.” He groaned, “You're both crazy.”

"You're still here, though.” Ferris pointed out, now smiling smugly as well. “Maybe you're crazy too.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Cameron chuckled, pulling them in closer to kiss the tops of their heads and ruffle their hair. “Crazy for you two!”

They both groaned in embarrassment at the cheesy display of affection, which only made Cameron smile more.

After a brief pause, his face became stern.

“But seriously, I'm staying out of this, okay?” He looked between them for confirmation, “You'll just have to get it sorted without me.”

“Oh no, what will we do without our dear Cam?” Sloane giggled.

“Probably eat each other alive!” He quipped back.

“That's one way of putting it.” Ferris said, smiling coyly, and before they knew it, the conversation had devolved into tickle fights and fits of laughter.

Sunday morning was when it would become a problem again.

Cameron was up early as usual and he'd been expecting Ferris to be fast asleep, having stayed out late with Sloane the night before, but upon waking he could hear the shower going in their shared bathroom.

It could've just as easily been Sloane in there, but she was a heavy sleeper and probably hadn't seen a proper morning since the rigorous schedule of high school.

Even then, Cameron remembered Sloane used to sleep in his car on the way to pick up Ferris.

It had become their unofficial morning routine senior year; Cameron drives, Ferris gripes about his lack of car, and Sloane sleeps in the backseat using both of their winter coats as blankets.

He even remembered stopping for donuts on the last day of class, before exams would whisk them every which way as they tried to level off their averages. Sloane blearily insisted on staying in the car while Cameron and Ferris got the donuts.

They sipped coffee and stared out at the car, too preoccupied with the worries of exams and the anxieties of the future to have anything useful to say.

“I'm gonna miss her.” Ferris said solemnly, interrupting the silence. Cameron nodded, taken slightly aback at the sudden admission of something so personal to Ferris.

“Me too, but we’ll still visit, right?”

Ferris shrugged, going silent once again.

When they returned with the food, Sloane was awake and grateful for the sustenance.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you awake in my car before noon,” Cameron had laughed, and Sloane had just looked at him as she sipped her coffee, the ghost of a smile lighting up her eyes. He still remembered the way it had rattled him, still did, even to this day. Sloane had a way of looking right into you, like she saw every intimate thought. That’d be pretty creepy on anyone else, but it was her charisma that made Cameron feel safe rather than scrutinized.

He smiled at the sudden memory, but jolted at the sound of singing echoing faintly from the bathroom.

Ferris. It had to be Ferris.

He was notorious for belting out whatever crossed his mind at the time, from songs to just stream of consciousness singing.

It was one of those things Cameron had complained about when they first moved in together, but he'd be lying if his mornings weren't just a little bit better with Ferris’ voice filling the apartment.

Cameron waited until after he heard the shower creak to a stop, and waited more still to give Ferris time to clear out.

Once enough time had passed in his mind, he knocked tentatively.

“It's open!” Ferris called back. Cameron let himself in, committing to the task of brushing his teeth without a word.

“Morning.” He said as he dried his hair, pausing to fix it here and there.

Their reflections wobbled from the steam condensing on the mirror.

Cameron nodded and grunted out some form of greeting before rinsing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It was then that he noticed Ferris holding something.

“Whatcha got there?”

He held the bottle up so Cameron could read it.

“This again? Really?”

“You should let me dye your hair.” Ferris suggested, ignoring Cameron's disbelief.

“Absolutely not.”

"Come on! Please?" He pleaded, brandishing the bottle of hair dye like a weapon.

"Where'd you even find that?"

"You won't believe me," Ferris set the bottle on the edge of the sink.

"I'd believe in anything at this point." Cameron scoffed.

"It was under the couch! I think Sloane was trying to hide it from me."

"Ferris, give it a rest will you? Sloane probably put it there last night when you got back from your… Outing and were both wasted. I bet she doesn't even know it's there.”

“Outing?” Ferris chuckled, “I'll ignore the adorable innocence of that statement to reiterate my former point: you should let me dye your hair.”

“Why?”

“Because… Because it'll be harder to do it on myself than if I try it on you!”

“It's hair dye not rocket science!" Cameron picked up the bottle, scanning the label for instructions.

"It literally just says put it in your hair, then rinse after a couple minutes."

"Okay. So let me dye your hair."

"No way! Dye your own hair!" He snapped, turning to go.

But Ferris had expected this, bounding over to the door in a flash, blocking Cameron's only way out.

"Ferris, move." He sighed.

"Please, Cameron! My hair’s wet it won't work the same!"

"That's bullshit."

"No it's not!"

"Considering you only found the dye this morning, I'd say any knowledge you have on the subject is guesswork."

Ferris had no response for that, but he refused to move from his place at the door.

Logically, Cameron could've moved him with no problem, but he didn't want to do that.

He wanted Ferris to realize he was being an idiot and move on his own.

"Just a small streak? Please?"

"No, Ferris! I like my hair and you're being ridiculous."

"Please?!" He asked more insistently, as if that would make Cameron budge.

"No! Now move. I'm serious."

Ferris looked up at him, then at the floor, then back to Cameron. He could see the gears moving, some plan forming in his head. Cameron was just about to shove past, when Ferris tackled him.

Before he had time to register what was going on, he was on the ground with Ferris on top of him, making sure he stayed put.

Cameron willed his heart not to race at the thought of the position he was in, squirming to get out from under him only to have Ferris jab him in the ribs.

“Ow! Hey! What's your problem?”

“Come on, just a small streak!”

“No!”

After a brief round of wrestling between them to get the hair dye before the other, paired with intermittent insults followed by yelps of pain, Cameron eventually relented.

“Oh my god.” He huffed, standing up and raising his hands in defeat. Ferris stood, still blocking the door warily.

“I don't even care anymore.”

This seemed to take Ferris off guard as he moved closer to Cameron, away from the door.

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyes wide with confusion. Cameron sighed, he had to admit Ferris could be pretty cute when he wanted to be.

“Just a small streak.” He ground out, it was almost a whisper.

“Wait really?”

“Yeah, I guess.” There was a long pause on Ferris’s end, much to Cameron's disbelief. “What? Too scared now that I've actually agreed with you?” He teased, trying to get some response out of him.

“No of course not! I just…” Ferris shrugged. “Well… How hard can it be?”

Another pause, this time from Cameron. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

“Okay then, let's get started.”

“You always get what you want.” He grumbled as Ferris began studying the bottle.

As far as Cameron was concerned, his decision to stay out of the “hair dye scandal” had been firm, or so it sounded firm when he replayed it in his head. Nonetheless, here he was, getting dragged into another one of Ferris' hair brained schemes. Literally.

Cameron's life was like a bad sitcom.

It soon became clear they both had no idea what they were doing, and the small streak quickly became a big streak, which became a large chunk of his hair.

It was a grueling process, and with the process growing longer as Ferris’ mistakes multiplied, Cameron's anxiety only began to heighten.

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” He asked, head bowed as Ferris fiddled around.

“Of course, of course. Don't worry!”

Cameron sighed loudly in an effort to broadcast his distaste.

“Don’t you trust me, Cameron?” Ferris asked, tilting his chin up to give him his patented puppy dog eyes. Cameron blushed and pulled away, saying nothing, but as time went on, he could feel Ferris’ fingers shaking in his hair.

Eventually he admitted defeat, taking a deep breath and stepping back to take in Cameron's hair.

For awhile, Ferris just opened and closed his mouth, like like some kind of fish. If a fish dyed his partner’s hair a terrifying mess of color and then had to find the least offensive way to tell him that he had indeed fucked up.

“I look a mess, huh?” Cameron deadpanned, willing his anxiety away. He snatched a towel off the floor and began drying his hair, ignoring the purple hues it picked up. If Cameron could concern himself with one task, ignoring the larger issue at hand, then maybe he could keep his cool.

“No! Of course not! I just…” Ferris looked around their bathroom, now tinted with a mess of purple. It was like a crime scene, and he was responsible.

“Geez, sorry, Cam I-” Ferris began guiltily, like it was a confession at church.

“Get Sloane.” Cameron interrupted, slouching over and not looking Ferris in the eye, opting instead to closely analyze the floor tiles.

“Right.” He said, dashing off to wake up Sloane, if the ruckus hadn't already done the job.

Despite Sloane being the hardest person to wake up, she stumbled in behind Ferris in nearly record time, a feat Cameron would find impressive if he wasn't preoccupied with staving off a break down.

“Oh god, what happened?” She asked, concern weighing down her voice, not a trace of grogginess to be found.

“I… Uh…” Ferris looked around, the state of affairs in the bathroom more an answer than anything he could conjure up.

“He messed up.” Cameron said, looking up at Sloane, then immediately regretting it as she took in the color. He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek and blushing faintly.

Cameron hated being the center of attention on a good day, so he felt like crawling under a rock right about now.

“Oh Cameron. I'm sorry.” Sloane came closer to him, one hand on his shoulder and the other combing through his hair. He tensed at the contact, only reminded of the mess he must resemble.

“Can you fix it?” Ferris asked nervously, moving closer to him as well. He'd never heard Ferris sound so meek, which probably meant he felt real awful over it.

The thought was strangely comforting to Cameron, who smirked slightly at having been right all along.

“Yeah, I have some brown hair dye I was gonna use to redye my hair, but clearly you need it more, Cameron.” Sloane giggled, but it came out cautious, like a question. She was trying to get him to smile, but Cameron refused to look at either of them.

No way was he gonna meet their gazes and see the pity in their eyes.

Sloane shuffled around under the sink, finally finding the box of brown dye.

“How did I miss that?” Ferris asked, looking at the box over her shoulder.

“You weren't looking for brown hair dye.” Cameron could hear the smirk in her voice and stifled the urge to smirk as well.

Sloane pushed back the shower curtain and  started running the bath water.

“Run your hair under this, Cam.” She said, folding the least eviscerated towel and placing it on the edge of the tub as a cushion.

“Okay,” he mumbled miserably, head turned away from the stream as he leaned against the bathtub.

Sloane rinsed his hair determinedly and Ferris sat across from Cameron, looking at him sadly, with a question on his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Cameron said over the drone of the water.

“Like what?”

“Like I'm some sick puppy that's being euthanized.”

“I'm not looking at you like that!”

“Sure.”

Ferris cautiously took his hand, looking up at Cameron for confirmation, a gaze which he did not return.

“I’m just looking at you like that ‘cause I’m sorry, Cameron.”  
“Really? Wasn’t this your plan all along?”

“No! I guess I…” Ferris looked away and mumbled something under his breath.

“You what?”

“I may have overreacted.” It was just above a whisper, and technically Cameron had heard it, but he wanted more.

“I can’t hear you, what?” He said through a smirk.

“I said I may have overreacted!” Ferris cried, an action which made Sloane’s hands freeze in Cameron’s hair and turn towards them.

“You know… About the hair thing.” He said bashfully, looking up at the two of them. The absurdity of the situation struck Sloane and Cameron at the same time, they couldn’t hold it in one more minute, bursting into fits of laughter.

“Hey!” Ferris protested, “I’m pouring my heart out here for you guys and you’re laughing at me.” But eventually he came around too, and what first started as a giggled quickly turned into a hearty laugh. In that moment, the trio could feel the tensions of the week dissolving.

From there the process went along much smoother, as Sloane played cosmetologist on Cameron, Ferris began the task of cleaning the purple mess.

Cameron just watched it all unfold around him, and even though he knew it wasn’t his fault, he felt bad that this whole situation had inadvertently begun to revolve around him.

Ferris seemed to sense it, pausing momentarily to pat him on the shoulder or smile at him. The affection only made Cameron roll his eyes and ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Check it out, Cam.” Sloane said, “I’m all done.” He stood and examined his hair in the mirror over the sink.

“There’s the animal himself,” Cameron said, solemnly tousling his hair.

“Is it alright?” Ferris asked nervously, crowding around the mirror with Sloane.

“Yeah, it looks fine.”

“Fine?” Sloane asked, looking worried, “If you don’t like it I can-”

“No, no it looks good. You can hardly see where the dye was.”

Sloane and Ferris smiled, apparently satisfied with that answer.

Both had felt the anxiety radiating off of Cameron, and during episodes like this they comforted him the only way they could think of.

Ferris took one hand and Sloane took the other, leading him from the bathroom to their bed. Cameron followed unquestioningly, already going through the motions he'd grown accustomed to.

“Lay down with us, Cameron.” Sloane said from her side of the bed, a perfectly hollowed out space for him in the center.

He laid in between his two partners, leaning into their contact as they snuggled close.

“Are you still mad at me?” Ferris said after a brief silence.

“You're a dope.” Cameron scoffed

“I think that's his way of saying he forgives you.” Sloane added, nuzzling Cameron's neck playfully, an action that made his toes curl.

“You're both crazy.” He replied softly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now who's the stubborn one?” Ferris laughed, running his fingers along Cameron's shoulder and chest before his smile faded, becoming a serious gaze.

“I really am sorry Cameron.”

“I don't know what's more amazing, Ferris Bueller apologizing or the fact that you got Sloane up before noon.” He smirked and began playing with their hair, a sign Cameron was doing better already.

“So do you forgive me?” Ferris asked, the puppy dog eyes returning.

“Of course! I love you, you dork!” Cameron kissed the top of his forehead, an action he was pleased to notice made Ferris blush.

“I love you too.” He half mumbled, leaning into Cameron's shoulder.

“And you too Sloane, as always.”

“I love you too, Cam.”

“Thanks for fixing my hair.”

She said nothing, only giving him that same look she had given him back in high school, the one that still made his heart race, and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Despite the chaos it sometimes caused, limbs in a tangle, bathroom a mess and a head full of hair dye was, as it turned out, how Cameron decided he liked it best.

They snuggled closer together and basked in the now afternoon sun and companionable silence.

Cameron wondered how he'd gotten so lucky, marveling at the fact that after all these years, the little things still managed to fill his heart with joy, he pondered the answers until the three fell into a light sleep.

**Same old partners, same old treasures rituals.**

**Author's Note:**

> i might write some more of these, if anyone's interested.


End file.
